Abomination
by Belie
Summary: The dreams were what disturbed them both. Onesided Wolfwood x Vash


Trigun belongs to all proper persons, as do the quotations from the Bible.

* * *

Wolfwood lay awake in the bed he had chosen when they arrived at the motel, staring across the room to the other bed. Irritating sobs and choked-back gasps had woken him from his slumber, though his wasn't much of a peaceful one either, and now he couldn't get back to sleep. Vash the Stampede, the sixty-billion double-dollar man wanted for the murder of the Count Revnant Vasquez and countless others, cried helplessly under the old bed sheets like a child with no mother.

The light of the third moon slipped through the curtains of the window that served as separation between the men's beds. The silver lighting glimmered down in attraction towards the infamous gunman. It crowned around the golden hairs and gave Vash an angelic appearance.

The crying eventually slowed down into sniffles and half-awake mumbles too low for the priest to make out, as if it would have made any sense to him anyway. As silence overcame the room and Vash's breathing evened out, Wolfwood still couldn't get to sleep. He rolled onto his back, cringing at the creaky springs beneath his body and the prolonged squeak they made.

This was the fifth night in a row that Vash had had these "dreams" and Nicholas found it frustrating. Not only was he hardly getting a peaceful eight hours rest but he knew he could do nothing about it. If Vash had been a child, he could have treated the cries exactly as he did with his children at his orphanage in December. He would carefully wake the child, slowly allowing him a chance to leave the dream and wake without much of a start, before taking the kid into his arms; whispering comforting words until sleep again conquered the youth, and lay there with him the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, Vash was only a child in spirit and it was wrong for the priest to do such things with a full-grown man. It wouldn't be an act out of kindness; it would seem sinful, lustful, and improper. Yet despite knowing that and being well aware at how the Church and the Bible scorned even thinking such things, he couldn't help it. Nicholas D. Wolfwood, faithful man of the cloth, held the most compelling urge to do those things and more. He wanted to take his best friend into an intimate embrace, kiss and touch that warm flesh; beautifully darkened by the suns and soullessly scarred by the weapons of Man, and act out deeds that no holy man, even one of his low stature, should perform.

The priest groaned, stubbornly pushing the images away as he groped along the table beside his bed for his smokes. The familiar crinkling sound of the packet encountering his snaking fingers was the only proof of success and it took a few tries to manage to draw one out to his parted lips and light it with a match he struck along the table's roughly cut corner. Nicholas inhaled the smooth taste of nicotine as his hand dropped back to his side, carton in hand.

_"If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death. Their blood guiltiness is upon them."_

The priest smirked as the quotation rang clear through his mind. He knew all too well what God meant. The man closed his eyes and before he could protest, had sunk deep into the arms of oblivion.

----

The humanoid typhoon yawned loudly, stretching out his limbs and having to kick free of the sheets tangled tightly around his body before getting out of bed. As Vash yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he casually glanced at his partner still motionless in bed. The bed sheet had wound its way around his midsection and snaked up to his bare chest, Wolfwood never liked wearing a shirt to sleep in. Vash stared at him for a moment, marveled by the peaceful look the sleeping man had. Wolfwood was usually the first one up and he had never seen him asleep before this moment. It was a nice change. The sight of something dropping down caught Vash's attention and he frowned at the peppered ash settling on the bed, near the man's face. Vash shook his head, strands of hair gone limp brushing his forehead. He stepped up close to the bed, taking the cigarette from his friend's lips and putting it out into a dirty ashtray. From the corner of his eyes, Vash spotted Wolfwood's head lift up and his smoky eyes squinting at him, curious at what was going on.

Vash didn't like those eyes and tended to avoid meeting with them. For him, who had always been good at telling a person's true nature by their eyes, he could never quite figure out the clergyman. His blue eyes were always so dark and clouded over, as if Nicholas was trying to hide something from him. It made him appear quite interesting and mysterious.  
Perhaps that's why he liked him so much.

"You shouldn't smoke in bed; it's dangerous," Vash warned, dropping the burnt-out cigarette into the ashtray and sweeping the remains off the bed and to the floor.

Wolfwood mumbled "yeah yeah" before closing his eyes and rubbing the lids in an attempt to wake up. He listened to Vash's footsteps faintly go back across the room and the rustle of discarded clothes. Wolfwood's eyes darted open, catching only a glance before the red coat slid down across the scarred body.

"Meet you down there!" Vash stopped by a small mirror and quickly spiked his hair back up before dashing out with his traveling bag.

"Mm."

Come three grueling hours later and the men had to admit it; they were completely and utterly lost. Perhaps it was from the heat of the two suns but Wolfwood was not in a pleasant mood and took almost a sadistic joy in waking Vash every time he tried to catch a quick nap by using his back as a pillow. The priest saw it as completely Vash's fault for why they were lost. The man had assured him he "knew the area" and that a map wasn't going to be required. Which is exactly why they were thirty-something iles off from Lewiston and it would take another hour before finally reaching the small town!

The amusement of riding the motorcycle over anything jutting far enough out of the sand to send a jolt to Vash had died down. He could feel the gunslinger already snoozing behind him and when the sight of a particularly good-sized rock came up, Nicholas steered carefully around it. He had to admit; it felt nice to feel the blond resting on his back, a soft swirl of air tickling the back of his throat every time the man exhaled.

That made him feel guilty. He wasn't having sinful thoughts _per se_ but the enticing placement of his friend's arms around his waist wasn't helping him keep a clean conscience either. It just would feel so nice if those hands left the gloves . . . trailed along his chest . . . unbuttoned everything . . . teased . . . tempted . . .

Wolfwood growled and drove faster through the sand, squeezing the thoughts from his mind. He was a priest! He shouldn't even think about thinking those thoughts! Especially about another man! Not only that, but he was a Gung-Ho Gun. He worked for Vash's brother. Vash was his target. Getting into a relationship with him would not make his job any easier.

However, he was already in a relationship with the man, wasn't he? He was his friend and the job was already difficult enough. So to fall in love . . . The man's blue eyes narrowed as he concentrated completely on the road ahead, forcing every thought, guilty or otherwise, from his mind.

It was another hour and a half before the two men arrived at Lewiston and the suns had begun to disappear beyond the horizon. Both men hadn't eaten the whole way and the first stop was to a diner. Vash had woken to a dry mouth and distanced himself from the donuts until having a long drink of water. (Even if it was a bit warm.)

After having a quick supper, Vash had eagerly left to roam around; specifically on the look-out for a bakery selling his favorite ring-shaped cake, while Wolfwood went to get a room at the hotel. The place was nicer than what they had to deal with earlier and the room was noticeably bigger, with a clean bathroom and two regular-sized beds that smelled as it had been recently washed. Normally Wolfwood couldn't afford such a room but the manager was a large believer in the Church and had given him a remarkably good deal.

Nicholas had chosen the bed located in the middle of the room on the far wall (as opposed to the one up against a corner) and tossed the 'Cross Punisher' on the mattress incase Vash had any doubts. The room looked nearly too clean to cloud with smoke and Wolfwood left the building, walking around a corner before lighting one up.

One soon became two, three, and four . . . until there was only one left. He pocketed that and strolled back toward the hotel, bypassing a bar where a large figure flew out at him. The man gasped in surprised, stumbling out in the road and regaining balance before looking down. Vash clutched at the preacher's waist while his head slowly turned up, a drunken grin plastered on.

"Heya! I was jus' waitin' for ya' 'cause I don't have a key!"

Nicholas sighed with aggravation and grabbed Vash by the shoulders, pulling the man to his feet. "C'mon then," Wolfwood replied, allowing Vash to hang an arm around his neck and use his body for support as they made their way up to the hotel room.

Vash was cooperative with getting up to the room and once Nicholas had opened the door he went tumbling in, diving into his empty bed and squirming his way under the sheets. The blonde-haired man nuzzled the pillow and curled up close to the wall. Wolfwood stood in the doorway, an eyebrow raised from his friend's antics. He chuckled softly and kicked the door closed with his heel. He paced to his bed and pulled the heavy cross up, placing it with care against the wall before slipping off his jacket and shirt, discarding them both on the floor. He stepped out of his shoes and entered the bed, closing his eyes and almost praying for no crying from Vash tonight.

----

Yet what came hours after that? One sob, then another, and another. Pained cries of loneliness and lost promises filling the room and waking the priest. Enough was enough.

Nicholas slipped from his bed as quietly as possible, a light shiver passing through him as the cool night air met his naked chest. Vash kept his back facing the priest and there was a large amount of space behind him. He carefully lifted the sheet up, lying down on the bed and draping the cover over him as carefully as was possible. An arm slid across the plant's middle, drawing the male closer to his chest. Vash's eyes opened slowly as he drew himself back to reality, eager to leave the awful nightmare he was having but still dreading the thought of waking.

_"You shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination."_

He lay still as the body shifted and slid a second arm beneath him. It came up and circled around him, slowly drawing him in a comforting embrace. Wolfwood leaned forward to Vash's face, kissing the corner of his warm lips clumsily but still with a gentle and compassionate manner.

"Wolf...wood . . ?"

"Shhh, sleep."

Vash nodded, closing his eyes and easing himself back to sleep; wondering if what was happening right now was better part of his dreams. It didn't matter. The secure feeling of his best friend holding him in his arms was too good to lose by questioning the realism behind it.  
That night Vash slept well--no dreams of death and hate bothering him--a genuine smiled remaining on his face.


End file.
